


The Three of Swords

by TwistedWonderland



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blood, Dragons, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Reference Neglect, Referenced Bullying, Self-Loathing, Tarot Cards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedWonderland/pseuds/TwistedWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Come, and let me tell you a story. A most beautiful tale of love and loss, passion and pain, of heroism and heartbreak that begins as all the best stories do, with Once Upon a Time. </p><p>And, like so many tales before it that had begun with Once Upon a Time, this one will end in death.</p><p>It is the story of a gentle lover, struck down with power that hummed in his veins, whose soft, beating heart was fractured with loss and sorrow and hate. Hate for himself, for the things he let happen, for the world he blinded with hope and love and warmth and a smile, so big and bright, it chipped away at his resolve.</p><p>It is the story of a brave knight, a storybook hero so humble, so willing to do the right thing, the good thing; he’d give up everything, anything for what he believed in, for the people he loved. His home, his heart, his life, his love; he wore on his sleeve, so open to the world. And the world clawed at it, again and again, until it was hollow and sad and broken, but still beating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Three of Swords

_Come, and let me tell you a story. A most beautiful tale of love and loss, passion and pain, of heroism and heartbreak that begins as all the best stories do, with Once Upon a Time._

_And, like so many tales before it that had begun with Once Upon a Time, this one will end in death._

_It is the story of a gentle lover, struck down with power that hummed in his veins, whose soft, beating heart was fractured with loss and heartbreak and hate. Hate for himself, for the things he let happen, for the world he blinded with hope and love and warmth. His smile, so big and bright, chipped away at his resolve._

_It is the story of a brave knight, a storybook hero so humble, so willing to do the right thing, the good thing; he’d give up everything, anything for what he believed in, for the people he loved. His home, his heart, his life, his love; he wore on his sleeve, so open to the world. And the world clawed at it, again and again, until it was hollow and sad and broken, but still beating._

_It is the story that begins with Once Upon a Time on a dark and stormy night…_

 

Cisco Ramon didn’t carry an umbrella with him. He carried the usual stuff: a wallet, his keys, a bag of Twizzlers in case he got hungry on the bus, and an extra set of clothes (shirt, socks, pants, and underwear) that high school had conditioned him to carry wherever he went. But, Cisco had never been caught in the rain so far away from home.

He could have called Barry, who’d whisk him away in the blink of an eye, or maybe Caitlin, who’d punch him in the shoulder harder then he thought possible after dragging herself out of bed and driving out of her way to get him. Hell he could have called Joe, who’d probably make the drive just for the opportunity to make fun of Cisco for the duration of the drive. But he didn’t, because it was late, because it was raining, because the water had already seeped into his socks and the squishing was pissing him off.

Cisco didn’t remember entering the store, but he remembered the smell hitting him, the deep overwhelming scent of vanilla cupcake that didn’t belong amongst the trinkets and knickknacks along the counter. He subconsciously ran a hand through his hair, gazing at the crystals and candles and charms on the shelves and tables, feeling the sense of superiority bloom in his chest at knowing this was all bullshit. But, he couldn’t deny the atmosphere of the place. African masks, tapestries of varying countries of origin lined the walls while the bookshelves behind the counter were crammed full of dusty, leather bound volumes. Behind him, a rapid burst of lighting and thunder echoed across the city and Cisco swore he saw the flames on the candelabras’ flicker.

“It’s like walking into The Craft,” Cisco muttered under his breath wringing the strap of his messenger bag.

“Why thank you,” a voice said. He jumped, heart thundering as his dark eyes drank in my appearance, instantly suspicious and on high alert. His eyes narrowed at the old woman smiling from the doorway, something small and shy, as if she were nervous and afraid. Something that would make him lower his guard. 

He’d dealt with reanimated corpses, land sharks, and a variety of evil speedsters and meta-humans on a daily basis, so his “superhero intuition,” which he totally had thank you very much Caitlin, didn’t perceive this woman a threat. She looked like the type of person to be running a place like this. Eccentric, but not off putting. Her stark white hair was wound into a tight bun and her hands were spotted with dark splotches and spidery veins. She wavered slightly, adjusting the grip on her cane with one hand while drawing the shawl spread of her shoulders tighter with the other. She looked as harmless as humanly possible and Cisco let the tension ease out of his shoulders as he shifted from one foot to the other. 

“Sorry to barge in,” he said, “I’m not sure if you’re closed or not, but it’s raining and…” he trailed off.

“I kept it open late tonight,” she said. 

“Let me guess,” he said, playful condescension leaking into his voice. “you were expecting me?”

“I was,” she answered honestly as she stepped aside, gesturing into the back room. “Care for a reading? I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.”

He snorted. “No thanks. If you knew anything about me, you’d know I don’t believe in all this bull…stuff” he amended quickly.

“I know you don’t, Cisco” she answered. “Just as I know you’re wearing Flash briefs right now. I wonder how much Mr. Allen would appreciate his emblem on your crotch?”

He stiffened as the woman left the room, his thoughts running a mile a minute while his face burned the color of his underwear. Should he make a run for it? The door wasn’t locked, but he wasn’t sure if she had some strange door-locking ability in addition to knowing things she shouldn’t, like the Flash’s secret identity and his name. 

What if she was some sort of elderly assassin or hit woman? Maybe there was a machine gun or machete hidden in her cane and this was all some elaborate trap to lure Barry to his doom? And what would they end up calling her? O.W.A (Old Woman Assassin)? The Giggling Granny? Granny Goodness?

Cisco shook his head, scolding himself for thinking of nicknames in what could very well be a life-or-death situation. 

“Call Barry, Idiot!” his brain, helpfully supplied.

“Was the name calling really necessary?” he asked himself, pulling out his phone. He’s had Barry on speed dial for a while now and sent a silent prayer to every god he could think of that Barry would be awake. He looked over his shoulder, afraid he’d see the old woman behind him holding an Uzi or samurai sword or something equally dangerous.

“Pick up, pick up,” he begged as he placed the phone to his ear. His heart hammered against the cage of his rubs and the storm outside dulled into white noise as the sound Cisco’s blood pounded against his skull. Cisco wondered if it had always been this hot in here or if was just him. His heart plummeted and an iron ball of fear formed in his gut as Barry’s annoyingly chipper voicemail greeted him. 

“Fuck you, bro.” Cisco swore, his mind already racing with different possibilities. He could still run, but, even if he did make it out in one piece, he was leaving the old woman and Barry’s secret behind him. She could blab to the media, or the Rogues, or god forbid the military and he refused to let Barry be harassed, killed, or exploited by anyone. The thought of Barry lying beaten in some dank alley way made his stomach churn and bile burn its way up his throat. 

No, he wouldn’t think about that, not now, not ever. He had to deal with the old woman. Sweat coated his fingers as he moved away from the exit towards the door the old woman had disappeared into. Was he trembling? Cisco swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself to push on, it was just one old lady. Cisco knew he wasn’t the most physical guy, but he was 99% sure he could take one little old lady.

“Why is it always a creepy old lady?” Cisco muttered. “Why couldn’t it be a friendly Zumba instructor, they’re never creepy.”

Beyond the door, was a long hallway. The walls were painted an ugly yellow-gold color. Large framed pictures of tarot cards hung on both sides, the usual ones. Death. Judgment. The Lovers. At the end of the hallway there was a doorway covered with a beaded curtain. 

“Holy shit, I’m already here.” Cisco thought as he parted the curtain. The walls were bare and the only light came from the single bulb in the hanging fixture directly above a round table in the center of the room. The old woman was already seated in one of the two chairs at the table, a stack of cards in her withered hands. She looked up and a smile that Cisco could only describe as grandmother-y split her face in half. For a moment, Cisco’s paranoia subsided and he wondered how he could fear someone so innocent and kind looking.

But, just as quickly as the thought entered his mind it was pushed out by that image of Barry. His face had taken the worst of the beating. Broken teeth littered the ground like seeds and Barry’s handsome face had swelled and blackened to the point he couldn’t be sure it was even him. 

“ _For Barry_ ,” his inner voice growled as Cisco slid into the chair opposite the old woman, slipped his messenger bag over his head and placed it next to his chair.

“Alright Bea Arthur,” Cisco said, narrowing his eyes and setting his phone on the table. “How do you know about Barry? And don’t give me that innocent old lady crap.”

The old woman’s smile didn’t falter as she set the deck in front of Cisco. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Cisco. Shuffle the cards and I’ll tell you exactly what’s going to happen.”

Her voice didn’t change, it remained the same soft, sugary tone it had since Cisco had walked into the store, but the metahuman suddenly found it the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard. Cisco hoped she didn’t posses some mind reading ability as he kept his face impassive as he reached out and began to shuffle the cards.

“Here’s the deal. I’m going to give you a reading and if I’m right and my reading is accurate, you lose. But, at any point I’m wrong or you disagree with me, you win. Simple.”

“And what exactly do I win?” Cisco asked a hard edge to his voice. 

“If you win, I’ll surrender my knowledge of Barry Allen being the Flash.” She answered. Before Cisco could ask what that meant, the old woman reached up and drove her ancient fingers into her skull. The sound of splintering bone and the squelching of blood made Cisco’s stomach give a painful twist and a wave of dry heaves to worm their way up his throat. The old woman’s eyes screwed themselves shut and her mouth hung open in an expression of frozen horror.

The muscles in her old arms strained as she sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and pulled. Tendons and nerves snapped as she pulled her fingers free from her skull. Cisco shot backwards, knocking over the chair in his shock. Pinched between her bloody fingers was what looked like a bubble. Soft white light radiated from it like a night light as the old woman set it on the table.

“Uh-uh. Not today Satan,” Cisco said, pressing himself to the wall. He willed his legs to move, to run, and to never look back. He’d run to Barry’s place for all he cared and wake his ass up before this crazy bitch could do anything with Barry’s secret.

But, they didn’t. Instead, the old woman rose from her seat and walked carefully over to Cisco. Her movements were slow and deliberate, not because of her age. She wanted see him sweat, to make his heart beat against his lungs. She wanted him scared.

“But, if you lose,” she cooed once she was close enough for Cisco to feel her hot breath on his ear, her fingers trailing up under his shirt. Her paper thin touch sent waves of goosebumps down his spine as a finger traced up from his navel to his chest. “I get your heart.”

She took a step back and held out a hand. “Deal?”

Cisco swallowed, but nodded and lifted a shaking hand for her to shake. With that, the old woman leaned forward and took the deck from Cisco and made her way back to the table. 

“ _Move_.” His brain commanded and his legs finally obeyed. Once they were back in their seats, the old woman placed the deck in the center of the table. “I must warn you that once a reading starts, you cannot leave until one of us has won. Usually a tarot reading is used to help guide a querent through a difficult time in their life. They provide clarity into situations, but for this reading I will be diving into your life. And I’ve prepared a very special spread for the occasion.”  
She laid out five cards on the table in a familiar pattern.

“A ‘V’?” Cisco asked. 

“I thought it was appropriate,” the old woman said. “Now let’s go back to the beginning.”

She flipped over the first card. It depicted a woman, blindfolded and bound, standing between two steams. Eight swords surrounded her, their points buried deep in the wet looking Earth. Cisco raised an eyebrow at the card style. The posters outside looked like colored pencil drawings while these reminded Cisco of a storybook. 

“The Eight of Swords,” the old woman said. “This is a card of blindness. The swords form a prison for the woman, yet there is a clear exit between the swords. However, she can’t see it. She’s trapped in a prison she thinks she can’t escape. She’s powerless, abused, and lost.” 

The old woman looked up at Cisco. “So, tell me Cisco, does that sound like your childhood?”

The temperature in the room dropped and his vision blurred. Or maybe it was the room. Cisco’s breath caught in his throat and he wanted to spring to his feet, but there was a weight pressing on him. Some invisible force keeping him bound to the table.

The bare walls of the backroom had been replaced with ugly gray tile. The scent of Fabreeze and piss overwhelmed his senses while a deep sense of familiarity settled in his chest. 

The sound of a toilet made Cisco turn his head. One of the stall doors, colored an ugly shade of blue, opened and someone stumbled out. Cisco winced when his body hit the floor and the figure started gasping. 

“I told you Ramon, I want an A on all my assignments,” someone said as they stepped out of the stall. “All you have to do is let me look at your homework.”  
Jake Puckett was exactly as Cisco remembered him. His hair was shaven close to his scalp and the dirty wife beater he always wore beneath an open flannel clung of his chest. Cisco liked to pretend he’d moved on from Jake, but he knew he hadn’t. Every time he entered a public bathroom he couldn’t stop the flashes of memory that danced behind his eyes, the feeling of cold toilet water slipping up his nose and down into his lungs. The sight of his former bully sent his heart into overdrive, adrenaline flooding his veins despite the fact he knew Jake had long since been incarcerated for some, violent, Neo-Nazi related crimes.

“Where are we?” Cisco demanded through gritted teeth.

“Your childhood, Cisco.” The old woman said.

“You’re pathetic, Ramon.” Jake said. Cisco remembered the feeling of Jake’s warm loogie on his freshly swirlied cheek. 

“You never did fight back,” the old woman said. Cisco didn’t say anything, but felt his hands curl into fists. “Was it because you were afraid or was it because you never thought it would accomplish it.”

“There’s always going to be bullies,” his dad said from his chair. The bathroom was gone and Cisco found himself back in his parent’s living room. A younger version of himself stood in front of his father, his hair damp. “You just have to deal with it. It’s part of growing up.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Cisco shouted at the old woman. Her dark, sunken eyes gleamed as a small smile graced her serene face.  
“Oh, but I do Cisco. I know your childhood was just one disappointment after the other.”

The room around them shifted again. And again. And again as if reality was channel surfing through his life. Flashes of memory, of emotions bombard him from every angle. He smells the birthday cake his parents bought him last minute for his seventh birthday, feels the hot metal of the dryer Dante locked him in, he can taste the blood in his mouth after Dean Hilton sucker punched him after asking his on-again-off-again girlfriend to Prom.

“You could have stopped it, you could have fought back. You could have shouted and screamed, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. All those people, your parents, your brother, your classmates, they all blinded you. And you let them.”

Cisco’s head throbbed and he screwed his eyes shut. It was too much. Too many memories, too many sensations, too many bad memories. Laughter ricocheted through his skull as he subconsciously placed the voices. Dante. His parents. Jake. Dean. Girls he’d only ever met in passing. Boys he’d barley knew. They laughed at him, mocked him, ignored him.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Panic and adrenaline coursed through his veins as Cisco slammed a hand on the table. 

Then the only thing he felt was the pounding of his heart. Cisco opened his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow down his cheek and his skin buzzed with anticipation and fear.

“What-what,” Cisco stuttered, his lips and tongue and throat suddenly too dry to speak. The old woman smiled and held up the Eight of Swords. Where the doll-like woman had once stood, bound and blind, was now occupied by a different figure. Cisco’s clothes were soaked with sweat and he tried to focus on the wet and damp material instead of his likeness imprinted on the card.

“One down, four to go,” the old woman said turning over the next card. “Now let’s look into your present.”

The card pictured another wooden storybook like character, a male in a chariot drawn by two horses, one black and the other white. Behind him was a forest, a large castle wall looming over the canopy.

“The Chariot is the card of victory,” the old woman said. “It represents the control you’ve fought so hard for. After all your hardships, all your anger and doubt has led you to become the best version of yourself. The two horses hare headstrong and stubborn, both wanting to take the charioteer in a different direction. Only through sheer force of will and determination does the charioteer keep them on path.”

Cisco tensed, waiting for the room too change, to be thrown back into a bombardment of memories and sensations. But, nothing happened. The old woman smiled and pushed the card closer to Cisco.

“This is your present,” she explained. “We don’t need to take a trip into your mind to prove if this card is accurate. All you need to do is tell me if it is.”

“ _An out_.”Cisco thought. All he had to do was deny the card was him and he could leave. Cisco parted his lips, ready to deny the cards meaning with all he had.  
But, nothing came out. No words, no breath, not a sound. Cisco’s eyes widened as he tried again.

“There’s no use in lying,” the old woman said. “So, don’t even try.”

Cisco glared and gripped the edges of his chair so hard his nails dug into the soft wood. “Yes. It’s me.”

“How?”

How wasn’t it like him? He clawed his way through college all the way to S.T.A.R Labs. He wanted it to be an engineer, he wanted to build things and help people and he did that. Now he’s a superhero with superpowers and a kickass nickname. He can bust through dimensional barriers, predict the future, and shoot vibrations out of his hands.

And he did all on his own. Of course the team helped, the helped him through so much. Caitlin, Harry, Jessie, Wally, Joe, Iris, Barry. The pushed him, trained him, but in the end it was Cisco who found the strength, who pushed through all the self-doubt and fear to become Vibe. And he was damn proud of it.

The old woman reached down and pulled the card back into the ‘V’ spread, the charioteer now looking almost exactly like Cisco, and reached for the next card. “This is your conscious mind.”

It was a group of three women who held a cup in one hand. “The Three of Cups is the card of friendship. It represents celebrating the relationships, whether they are platonic, romantic, or anything in between, you’ve made.”

Then they were in the Cortex. Cisco recognized the scene. It was a few days after Zoom had been carried off by Time Wraiths to the Speed Force equivalent of Azkaban. Bright light steamed in through the windows as Barry sat down next to Cisco on the picnic blanket, immediately digging into the potato salad Caitlin had made for their indoor blanket. Jessie and Wally’s eyes comically widened and the pair withdrew their outreached hands, not wanting to run the risk of Barry mistaking them for food in his feeding frenzy.

“He eats like a starving bear,” Iris muttered over her wine glass and Caitlin chuckled. Barry gave no indication he heard her, even through Cisco knew he had, and moved on to the BLTs Joe made.

“I’m pretty sure bears chew their food,” Joe supplied. “Barry just kind of swallows it whole.”

Barry rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to flip him off as he took the time to dramatically chew the sandwich before swallowing. 

“Happy?” Barry asked. 

“No, I’ll be seeing that in my nightmares tonight.” Harry answered. Barry flipped him off and turned to the Cisco of the past.

“Can you believe it?” he asked. “I came out here to have a good time and am honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

“Poor you,” the Cisco of the past said. “It must be so hard being you.”

“It is,” Barry said, raising a hand to his forehead and falling dramatically over Cisco’s lap. “Woe is me.”

The memory sent a warm shiver through his body. The picnic had been Caitlin’s idea and the indoor part had been Cisco’s, not wanting to run the risk of anyone discovering the supposedly dead Harrison Wells alive and well and drinking bagged wine. It was nice, his family all in one place, laughing and exchanging war stories. No villains to defeat, no worlds to save, just a family together for what felt like the first time in forever.

The memory faded and the walls of the back room were back. Cisco felt the warmth drain from his body as the old woman held the card up for him to see. The three women had been replaced with three Ciscos and cold fear oozed through his veins. Three down, two to go.

“This is your unconscious mind.” The old woman said turning over the next card. Two people, a girl and a boy, each held a cup in their hands toasting to something. Above their cups was a small Cupid like figure. The floor they stood on was patterned with red hearts.

“The Two of Cups,” the old woman said. For the first time since entering the shop, Cisco heard her voice change. That sweet, grandmother-y tone she’d held onto faded into giddy excitement. Cisco watched as her nostrils flared and her tongue poked out of her mouth to wet her lips. “This is a card of love. But, it’s not just any love. Cupid is there, personally overseeing there attraction. There are hearts of the floor, love in the air, and a toast being made in their honor. Both figures look shy, yet they can’t take their eyes of the other. This is the card of true love.”

“What are you talking about?” Cisco asked. “I’m not in love with anyone.”

“This is your unconscious mind. You wouldn’t know it if you were, but the cards know. The cards always know.”

The room was once again replaced, but Cisco found himself staring at the same picnic scene. Barry’s head rested on his lap, his face frozen in peaceful serenity. Cisco remembered the piece of potato salad that clung to Barry’s lips. He remembered thinking about how weird it was that his hair always looked so perfect, despite the fact he should have a serious case of hat hair after wearing a cowl all day.

Cisco remembered the way Barry’s chest rose and fell with every quiet breath. He remembered the others laughing at something, but he didn’t hear it. He was staring at Barry and that spot of potato salad on his lips and how easily he could kiss it away.

The thought sent a jolt through Cisco’s core and he turned back to the old woman. Her dark eyes were wide as he shook his head. 

“I’m, I’m. I’m,” he started, but the words wouldn’t come. His voice felt trapped between his vocal chords as he tried to shout, to scream. She was wrong, she was so wrong. The cards were wrong. This whole thing was a trick, a lie. He wasn’t, he wouldn’t, he can’t.

“Why can’t you?” the old woman asked. “You’re the Chariot, you’re strong and victorious. Why can’t you have this too? Why can’t you have what you’ve always wanted?”

Because, because, because he’s not his to have. Barry is Iris's. It’s always been Iris. He can’t, he won’t. Tears prick the back of his eyes. Needles prick against his heart as he tried to push the thoughts away. Of Iris and Barry kissing as the moon disappears between their lips. Of Iris and Barry getting married, and having kids. He tried to shake the thoughts away, to bury them down, down, down where he couldn’t find them. Where they would remain for the rest of his life.  
He can’t have Barry. He’s not his to take. To have. To hold. To kiss. To love.

But, he wanted to. 

“Why?” Cisco asked his voice weak and shaking. “Why me?” 

“One card left, your future” the old woman said, her voice laced with excitement. Cisco gaze drifted to the Two of Cups, the boy and girl gone and Cisco and Barry in their place. There was one card left, one card to prove this was bullshit, some weird meta-ability he didn’t have a name for. One last shot. The future isn’t written, its fluid. Nothing is certain. And that gave Cisco hope.

The final card was at the center point of the ‘V’ and Cisco found himself turning it over before he could stop himself. Three swords punctured a heart as a storm raged behind it.

“The Three of Swords is the card of heartbreak.” The old woman said and Cisco let his hope fade.

And his heart break.

 

Barry woke to the sound of the original Star Trek theme blaring in his ear. He groaned and reached out blindly for his phone, knocking over his alarm clock and wallet as he did so. Sleep crusted his eyes lids and his muscles felt heavy and weak.

“This better be goddamn important.” Barry thought as he gripped his phone. He looked at it and winced at the brightness. The dark coziness of his room embraced him, urging him to let it go to voicemail. 

He considered it; after all it wouldn’t be the first time Cisco called in the middle of the night to tell Barry something unimportant, like how dwarf racing was an actual sport. But it was Cisco and he could always chew him out for waking him tomorrow.

“What Cisco?” Barry asked, wincing at the harsh tone in his voice. Cisco was silent and Barry groaned. “I swear to god Cisco if you butt-dialed me I’m hanging up and going over to your place to kick your ass.”

“Why, Mr. Allen that isn’t very heroic,” a voice said over the phone. Instantly, Barry was awake speeding around his room in a fury of yellow lightning throwing on whatever he touched before rocketing out the door to S.T.A.R Labs.

“I hate for you to hang up and leave Mr. Ramon here in this part of town.” The voice said. She sounded older, playful edge to her sweet voice. “After all, a handsome guy like him passed out and nearly naked. You work for the police; you know what happens in these those types of situations.”

Bile burned its way up his throat as he tore through S.T.A.R Labs. Papers swirled around him, glass shattered as he stripped and slipped into his suit. Barry wouldn’t think of Cisco like that, because he wouldn’t be in a situation like that. They’d have to go through Barry to get to Cisco and he wouldn’t let them get to him. Not now, not ever. Tears blurred his vision.

“Where is he?” Barry demanded before continuing. “I swear to god if he’s hurt I will…” 

“Don’t threaten me, Barry Allen,” the voice said. “You have no idea what I can do. Luckily for you, I’m done with Cisco for now. But, don’t worry; you’ll be seeing me again real soon.”

The voice rattled off an address and Barry was there before she finished her sentence. But, whoever had called was gone, leaving only Cisco stripped down to his underwear slumped over a table, unconscious.

 

Barry had brought Cisco in over six hours ago and, according to Caitlin, there wasn’t anything new to report since the last time he asked her. So, Barry waited outside the Cortex, his knees drawn to his chest, while Caitlin filled in Iris and Wally who’d just shown up.

“He’s in a coma,” Barry heard Caitlin say before tuning her out. He’d memorized it already. No external or internal damage. Brain activity normal, heart rate steady, just unconscious. Comatose. Breathing up dead.

Barry wondered if this was what it was like for Joe and Iris during those nine months or if this feeling of worthlessness was unique only to him. He hugged his knees tighter and willed the tears to stop falling, to let the choked sobs even into long, deep breaths.

“ _You should have been faster_ ,” his brain taunted. “ _You could have saved him_.”

He could have. If he had answered his call the first time. If he had walked him home. If he had offered to stay the night. 

If he

If he

If he

If he hadn’t failed.

Cisco looked so peaceful, even crumpled over that table. Like he was some Sleeping Beauty waiting for their Prince Charming. But a prince didn’t come through that door, neither did a hero. Just someone who had been struck by lightning. Just someone who was too slow, too weak to save him.

“Barry?” Joe’s baritone brought him out of his revere. “Are you okay?”

Barry looked up at his father figure and shook his head before a fresh wave of tears washed over his face. He turned away from Joe just as a pathetic whimper escaped his lips. He felt Joe kneel down next to him and a hand on his shoulder.

“Shhh, Bar,” Joe said. “Shhh.”

“I just lost my dad, Joe,” Barry said, his voice crackled and barley above a whisper. “I can’t lose Cisco. I can’t.”

“You won’t, Barry.” Joe said. “Cisco’s strong, he’ll pull out of this and we’ll find whoever did this and give them exactly what they deserve.”

The hard edge to his voice made Barry pause and turn to him. Joe’s eyes were glazed with unshed tears, but unlike Barry he held them back and kept his face solid and neutral. He couldn’t let Barry see him break, not when he was so broken already. Joe had already seen one of his kids go through this and he had to be strong. For Barry, for Cisco.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” Barry whispered. “I’m never fast enough.”

“Barry, you found him. That’s all that matters.” Joe said. “You’ll catch this guy, Cisco will wake up, and everything will be fine.”

Barry shook his head and pulled out the card from his pocket. He hadn’t realized he’d taken it until Caitlin had already done her examination and asked why it was in Barry’s hand. He held them out for Joe and watched as he examined it.

“The Three of Swords is the card of heartbreak,” Barry said, repeating the summery of thousands of internet searches he’d done. Joe swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared at the image of a doll-like Cisco, his arms outstretched as three swords impaled him through the chest. “Why was he there, Joe? He didn’t believe in any of that stuff.”

“I don’t know, Barry.” Joe said, lightly. “You’ll have to ask him when he wakes up.”

Barry reached up for the card and Joe gave it back after a brief war with himself. If Cisco were here, he could just get a Vibe off it and they’d know who had done this and where they were. But, he was in a coma. He was unconscious in the next room and here Barry was, doing nothing.

But, he didn’t know what else to do.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring that that card. Joe left, came back, and left again. Harry and Iris had stopped by, but not even Harry’s “get off your ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself” speech or Iris’s gentle touch could get him to move. Eventually they left him alone as they pitched ideas and theories around Cisco’s hospital bed.

He just stared at the card, wishing he’d been faster. Wishing Cisco was here to drop some movie reference or suck on a lollipop or just smile. Barry would give anything to see that smile again.

The sound of harsh, erratic beeping propelled Barry from his position of Cisco’s side in a fraction of a second. Cisco’s body convulsed on his bed, his black hair wild and tangled as Caitlin yelled at Joe to get the crash cart.

“What’s happening?” Iris shouted as she stepped back as Caitlin slipped in doctor mode.

“He’s going into cardiac arrest,” Caitlin said, her voice struggling to maintain a balance of calm professionalism and terror.

“What? Why?” Joe shouted, as he handed the crash cart off to Caitlin. 

“I don’t know!” she shouted back.

“I do,” the voice said as Cisco’s convulsions stopped almost as quickly as they started. Barry whirled around and shot towards the old woman. Her hooded, powder blue cloak hung shapelessly over her form. In her hand was something red and glowing. He didn’t know what it was, maybe meat, but he drew back his fist to punch her. Only to be forced back. He bounced, once, twice, three times and rolled across the floor before colliding with the metal frame of the medbay’s windows.

The old woman made a “tsk-tsk” noise and shook her head. “So impulsive Mr. Allen. But what can you expect from someone as…emotional as you.”

“Don’t move,” Joe said drawing his gun, Harry right behind him with his signature laser blast gun thing, both weapons aimed at the old woman. Her eyes flitted from Joe to Harry before falling on something in the space between her and Barry.

“So there’s where that card went,” The old woman said, reaching into her sleeve.

“I said don’t move!” Joe shouted raising the gun to her head. She ignored him and pulled out four cards and fanned them out for Barry to see. The speedster rose to his feet and stared at the cards. Cisco blindfolded and bound, Cisco driving a chariot, three Cisco’s drinking, Cisco and him toasting. 

“It’s surreal to hold someone in your hand,” the old woman said. “Metaphorically,” she gestured to the cards with a tilt of her head. “and literally.” She lifted her right hand, so Barry could see the pulsing red thing in her hand. Even with the gap between them, Barry could hear the steady thump-thump of a heart beat.  
Then she squeezed.

And Cisco’s heart monitor went crazy. 

“Cisco!” Barry shouted, turning his attention away from the old woman for a moment before taking off. That thing in her hand was hurting him, killing him. He was moving so fast it would be out of her grasp before she could comprehend he had moved. His gloved hand reached out for the thing, only to be forced back again.

This time, he kept his footing and only slid back a few feet. “Uh-uh-uh. Sorry Flash, but Cisco and I had a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Barry demanded. Joe and Harry moved behind her, so she was covered on all sides. Behind him, Caitlin, Iris, Jessie, and Wally positioned themselves around Cisco ready to protect him if necessary.

“A game. He lost,” she said and held up the red thing in her hand. “And I got his heart.” The thump-thump of the red muscle in her hand matched with Cisco’s heart monitor. Barry’s throat went dry. A metahuman with the ability to harvest organs? Control hearts? Whatever. He needed to get that thing away from her.

“Hate to break it to you, Mr. Allan,” she said. “But I won this fair and square. You couldn’t take it no matter how many times you try.”

“And why not?” Barry asked. He was staling, his eyes searching out her blind spots and weaknesses. Maybe she’d let her guard down. Maybe he could wrestle the thing out of her hand.

“Because you can’t just take a heart,” she said. “It has to be given to you willingly. But I suppose I’d be willing to part with it for the right price, of course.”  
Barry’s eyes snapped away from the heart to her and narrowed. 

“What kind of price?” he asked just as Harry said. “We’re not interested.”

Barry knew what she wanted. It’s what they all want. His speed. Reverse-Flash wanted it, Zoom wanted it, and now this old woman wanted it. And he’d give it up, too. He’d give it to her right now if she gave him Cisco’s heart.

“I want a kiss.”

What?

“What?” Harry, Caitlin, and Barry asked in unison.

“Cisco’s heart for one little kiss, Barry.” The old woman said, a small serene smile spreading across her face. Her sunken eyes closed and for a moment, she looked her age. Frail, old, powerless. “That’s my price.”

“Barry, think about this.” Harry said. “You’re not thinking straight. She’s manipulating you.”

How? She gets a peck on the cheek and Cisco gets his heart back. Barry’s brow furrowed as he tried to keep himself from accepting. He knew he should wait, think about the consequences, but this was Cisco. His life was in her hands. He was aware of the voices behind him, in front of him mingling into one stream of white noise. For Cisco, anything was worth it.

“Deal.” Barry said, appearing before her in an instant. “The heart, then the kiss.” There was no room for debate in his tone.

“First you have to cross your heart,” the old woman said, making the gesture. “Then I give you the heart.”

Barry glared at her, but did as instructed. “Take it and shove it into his chest. It should wake him up.”

The heart was warm and sticky, both attributes seeping through his glove and onto his bare hand. But there was that steady thump-thump that vibrated up his arm and into his core. It could have been a trap, a bomb of some sort, but Barry didn’t think about that. Instead, he thought of Cisco and his laugh, his smile, his steady heart beat. 

Barry whooshed past his friends and jammed the heart into Cisco’s chest before Joe could issue a warning. Instantly, Cisco shot up, head butted Barry dead center of his forehead, and fell back onto his bed clutching his head.

“Holy shit, that fucking hurt!” Cisco swore, and Barry swore he felt his heart swell at the words. 

“Cisco, you’re awake!” Barry shouted as he leaned in closer, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Cisco groaned and opened his brown eyes and found himself face to face with Barry.

Maybe it was the post-coma high or maybe it was the possible concussion from slamming into a guy who took down a land shark or maybe that he was just so happy to see Barry, his Barry, after his ordeal with the old woman that he just couldn’t stop himself, but, for whatever the reason, Cisco found himself grabbing Barry and pulling him down into a kiss.

It was desperate and hungry perfect. Barry tasted like copper and static. Cisco tasted like unbrushed teeth and chapstick. But, they didn’t care. This was their moment, their first kiss. And it was everything Barry thought true love would be.

And it would have been, if Cisco hadn’t opened his eye and caught Iris gasping at them. His heart shuttered and broke into pieces as Cisco pulled away, red faced and terrified of what his friends would say.

“I told you Cisco, the cards are never wrong.” the old woman said. She hadn’t moved from her position in the center of the Cortex, but it didn’t matter; she had seen all she needed to see.

Cisco vaulted from the bed, pushed his way through Wally and Jessie, and down the ramp to the Cortex before Barry could comprehend what she had said. “What are you doing here, Betty White?”

“Now, Cisco are you in any position to be demanding anything while you’re in you underwear?”

Cisco’s face flared and he was hyper aware he was standing in the Cortex surrounded by his friends in his Flash briefs. Barry raced to his side and threw a blanket over his shoulders.

“Allow me,” the old woman said, reaching into her sleeve. Joe didn’t hesitate and fired a bullet. The bullet tore through the old woman’s skull and exited in a fine spray of blood and brain matter that coated the walls of S.T.A.R Labs. But, she didn’t fall. She didn’t even react to the shot as she withdrew what looked like a glass knitting needle.

“Holy sh-” Cisco shouted, only to be cut off when she flicked her wrist and a swirl of purple smoke consumed Cisco only to disappear a moment later. The blanket was gone and Cisco was now wearing a pair of black leather pants with red accents. A tight, black and yellow shirt clung to his chest. He wore a sleeveless, silver vest over the top with black fingerless gloves over his hands. His Vibe goggles were active and perched on the bridge of his nose and his hair was in a low ponytail.

“What the fuck!” Cisco shouted, looking down at himself then to the brain splattered wall then back to the old woman. 

“I hope you like it,” the old woman said. “I’m much better at ball gowns,”

Cisco’s ears rang, the old woman’s words burying themselves in his skull. Ball gowns, an old woman, powers that didn’t line up with any superpower Cisco had ever read about.

“What the hell are you?” Cisco whispered, taking a tentative step backwards. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Isn’t it obvious Cisco?” the old woman asked. “I’m your Fairy Godmother.”

“Aren’t fairy godmothers supposed to be good?” Cisco asked before he could stop himself. The old woman scoffed.

“I was once,” she said, her voice thick with emotion and hate. “But, that’s another story for another time.” She turned away from Cisco and locked eyes on Barry.

“I think it’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal, Flash.” Cisco’s heart lept into his throat and he gripped Barry’s wrist as he moved closer to the Fairy Godmother. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he approved to the name, but at the moment his only thought was making sure Barry didn’t get any closer to the woman.

“Barry, what did you do?” Cisco demanded. Barry turned to look at him, the leather of his suit squeaking as his body moved towards Cisco’s. The lump in Cisco’s throat grew as Barry raised a hand to touch his cheek. Cisco leaned into Barry’s touch. His fingers were warm and soft and Cisco wondered if this could have been his life, if he could have felt those fingers roam his body in another life, in another time.

“She gave me your heart,” he said. “I needed to give her something in return.”

Barry’s chest, near his emblem, glowed, soft blue light slicing through his suit in an ‘X’ shape over his heart. “Barry, what did you give her?”

“It’s just a kiss,” Barry said, his voice barely above a whisper. “All I have to do is kiss her.”

The old woman, the Fairy Godmother, snorted and Barry pivoted his head to look at her, his face expressionless. The Godmother twirled her wand between her fingers as she regarded the Flash with a cold, condescending smirk.

“Actually, Mr. Allen, our deal was I’d give you Cisco’s heart in exchange for a kiss. I never said I wanted you to kiss me.”

Barry felt his blood freeze and he drew himself to his full height. Electricity danced acrossed his eyes as he set his jaw, ready for a fight. Next to him, Cisco took a step forward, determined to vibe the Godmother out of existence if she so much as thought about getting near any of his friends.

“You mean nothing to me, Flash. A kiss between you and me would be meaningless” the Godmother said, as her eyes drifted from Barry to Cisco. “But, that kiss between you and Cisco was far from meaningless. That's the kiss I want.”

The cross above Barry’s heart glowed brighter, the blue light darkening into a sinister red. Barry willed his feet to move, to grab Cisco and run as far away from this woman as possible, but they stayed rooted to the ground, numb and useless. Barry's lips tingled as the old woman held up her wand. People were shouting, Iris, Joe, and Harry, but their voices were muffled and soft, as if he were underwater. Cisco's eyes widened as he turned to Barry, both of their lips glowing a dark red.

"Here's a riddle for you," he Godmother cackled. "What is more powerful then True Love's Kiss?"

Her wand, once clear glass, turned a dark red as the glow faded from the heroes lips. "The Kiss of True Heartbreak."

The numbness faded from his legs and Barry moved, the Speed Force surrounding him instantly as he planed to body check the Godmother, to shatter her wand and throw her into the Pipeline. But, she was gone in a swirl of red smoke and Barry found himself grasping at air. 

"Barry!" Cisco shouted. Barry whirled around and ran at Cisco, the Godmother's wrinkled hand around his elbow. If he had looked at her, thought about his actions before running at her, he would have seen it. the look in her eyes. That wild, untamed look that filled her sunken eyes with manic glee said "Come on, come on, Flash." She wanted him to run to her, to fight her.

And when he collided with her frail body, she got her wish as all three of them disappeared in a swirl of red smoke.

 

The drive of a sleek BMW skidded to a halt as the trio appeared materialized on the road. The Godmother threw Cisco at Barry and both crumpled to the ground as a fury of angry honks and shouts echoed behind them. The Godmother took a step back and raised her red wand. Cisco scrambled to his feet as Barry pulled on his cowl. They were in the heart of the city, surrounded on all sides by apartment buildings, offices, shops, and pedestrians. 

"Barry, Barry can you hear me," Caitlin's panicked voice came over the coms. 

"Yeah, I'm here. Cisco too." Barry said, never taking his eyes off the Godmother.

"Let's see what this Kiss can really do." The Godmother said raising the wand above her head. The red glass burned brighter and brighter as the Godmother waved the wand over her head. Thick red sludge oozed from her wand, down her arm, and across her body. The godmother's eyes widened as she attempted to drop the wand, but all she could do was scream. It was loud and shrill and bloodcurdling. Barry's bones writhed beneath his skin as he heard tendons and joints and bones rip and tear and crack before the Godmother dissolved into a puddle.

"Barry, Barry what's going on?" Caitlin asked. Barry opened his mouth to answer, only for the puddle that was once the Godmother to start bubbling. A cool gust of wind, carrying the scent of rot and roses, curled around Barry and Cisco and chilled their organs. The red sludge bubbled and grew, defying gravity as the mass floated higher and higher into the air before it began to take shape. A long, serpentine head sprouted from the red mass, followed by two long arms that curled into claws, then two legs, thick with muscle, and finally two large bat like wings. The remaining sludge solidified the dragons body before it fell to the ground, creating a crater in the asphalt.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Cisco shouted. "My first real superhero gig and I have to slay a fucking dragon?"

"Cis-Vib run!" Barry shouted as the dragon lifted her head, smoke curling out of her nostrils. 

"Fuck that," Cisco said. "I'm not leaving you to fight a fucking dragon alone."

"Did he just say dragon?" Caitlin asked. The dragon's monstrous jaw opened and she breathed out a jet of orange fire. Barry shoved Cisco out of the way, sending him backwards into a parked Subaru and he ran to collect civilians and get them out of harms way. Panic coursed through Cisco's body and he steadied his breathing and stood on shaking legs, his hands vibrating. When Black Siren had cornered him and Caitlin, the sonic blast was weak and chaotic. Now they had some semblance of power behind them, but he couldn't get them to work without being paralyzed with terror.

Like now.

"Hey Mushu," Cisco shouted raising his hand. "Ima bout to bibbidi bobbidi bitch slap the shit out of you."

Cisco wasn't prepared for the kickback of his blast and he was sent backwards against the Subaru again, denting both the car and his skin. His blast collided with the dragon's face, and he roared in protest a her massive head turned to glare at Cisco.

"So, the sleeping princess as become a brave sir knight," the dragon said, "It's a shame to have to fight you Vibe, but alas you are the hero and I am the villain."

"Don't you know?" Cisco shouted. "The hero always win. You won't get away with...whatever you're trying to get away with."

"Oh, Vibe." the dragon said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I've already gotten away with it. I needed the Kiss of True Heartbreak and you were the perfect candidate. All you needed was a little push in the right direction."

"So the reading, the coma, it was all so you could get the Flash and I to kiss?" Cisco asked.

"Of course, but if you two had kissed of your own terms, it would have been a much different kiss. People think that True Love's Kiss is the most powerful thing in the multiverse, but there wrong. If you can corrupt True Love, if you can make it fragile and weak, it becomes something so much more." She reached out with her claw and Cisco braced himself for a strike. Instead, he felt her gently caresses his skin.

Cisco's breath hitched as the vibe took over, filling his vision with images of sleeping girls in glass coffins. Of girls trapped in thorny castles. Of images of curses and kisses. The dragon pulled her claw away and the vibe faded away. "I've been a fan of True Love for my entire existence, and what has it gotten me? A cameo in a Disney movie. It's time people know me. It's time people fear me, starting with you." 

Cisco felt the fire singe the edge of his hair before Barry appeared and whooshed him to safety. "What are you doing? Cisco you have to get out of here."

"No, I can't." Cisco's mind was racing. The dragon spread her wings and took to the sky, making sure to slam and claw against every building she could before releasing another jet of fire at the heroes. Barry scooped Cisco up bridal style and they were behind the dragon again. "Wait Barry, you have to-"

Another fireball and blur of yellow lightning stole his voice. Then he was standing a top a sky scraper, the dragon circling them like a vulture. "Talk fast."

"We have to kiss again."

"This isn't the time to be putting the moves on me Cisco."

"No, I vibed the dragon, the godmother, whatever," Cisco said. "I saw Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. The Godmother transformed into a dragon because of our kiss, maybe we can turn her back."

"But-" Barry said, before a roar tore through the air and the dragon fell into a nosedive, aiming for the heroes. Barry's eyes widened and he quickly turned to Cisco and pressed their lips together.

It was meant to be quick. Barry meant to peck Cisco on the lips and then run him to safety. Instead Barry felt his legs turn to putty and Cisco wrap an arm around his waist to keep him up as they pressed deeper into the kiss. He wasn't thinking about Cisco's unbrushed teeth, or the impending doom above them. He thought of Cisco. He pictured his smile, something so bright it could blind someone. Barry reached up and gathered Cisco's hair in his fist, eliciting a heavy moan from the other man. Cisco tightened his grip around Barry's waist and pressed his body against Barry's. He wasn't sure who's heartbeat thundered in his ears, his or Barry's, but Cisco relished in the moment. His skin burned as pleasure crawled down his spine.

Barry was his. His to have, to hold, to love, to cherish. And he knew, as Barry's pressed deeper into the kiss, he was Barry's.

Above them the dragon gave a screech, another fire ball gathering at the back of her throat. Barry and Cisco could still feel the electricity in the air as the pulled away from each other, their lips glossy and kiss swollen, and panting heavily. Cisco's hands vibrated faster then he through possible and Barry reached out to hold one, lacing his fingers through Cisco's. The metahuman smiled at Barry, before lifting his free hand up, the dragon barreling down, smoke and fire bleeding from her mouth.

"And they all lived happily ever after." Cisco whispered as another vibrational pulse burst from his hand. It collided with the dragon's open maw, and she gave a painful shriek as a spiderweb of crackles crawled across her red scales. She spread her wings, hoping to catch a draft and fly away, but the leathery appendages were already dissolving in a shower of glitter. First the wings, then her legs and torso, her arms, and finally her head. 

A soft plink landed between the two of them and both heroes looked down to see the shattered remains of the Godmother's wand, the red glass once again transparent. Barry looked up at Cisco, tiny flecks of glitter catching on his lashes and hair. Suddenly his mouth was dry and he couldn't find the right words. Cisco raised an eyebrow and looked up at the glitter that feel above them.

"Did we just slay a dragon?" Cisco asked. Barry nodded and squeezed Cisco's hand. He turned to look at the speedster, the smile Barry loved so much gracing his features.

"What an awesome first date." He said, before pulling the Flash into another kiss.

 

Later, after the news of a dragon attack, a new hero, and the Flash kissing a guy. After Iris had smiled and nodded and given her blessing and Joe had given a revised version of his obligatory "disapproving father" talk and Caitlin and Harry had each slipped Wally and Jessie fifty bucks, Cisco crawled out of bed for a midnight snack. He walked down the cool halls of his apartment in a pair of loose flannel pajama pants, missing the warmth of Barry's body as he turned the corner into his kitchen.

On his kitchen counter, illuminated by the light of his open microwave, was a book that wasn't there before. It laid flat on the surface, next to the pizza sauce stain and the puddle of dried water with a pale blue bow stuck haphazardly to the cover. Cisco smiled. Barry had a habit of breezing into his house, office, workshop, etc, and leaving little gifts like the sap he was. The book was bound in heavy leather and warm to the touch. He opened the front cover and read the inscription.

_Dear Cisco,_

_Sometimes I have be a kind and dotting godmother, sometimes I have be a vain and evil queen, and sometimes I have to be a supervillain. But, no matter who I am, I will always be a fan of stories that tell of True Love. This one is my favorite._

_With love,_

_Your Fairy Godmother_

"Cisco?" Barry asked as he approached his boyfriend clad only in his Vibe briefs. "Are you okay?"

Cisco smiled and held up the book for Barry to read the title: _Of Heroes and Heartbreak_. He closed his microwave, grabbed Barry's hand, and moved into the living room, where he flipped on a lamp and fell onto the couch. Barry smiled and curled into Cisco's body as the metahuman opened the book to the first page and began to read:

_Come, and let me tell you a story. A most beautiful tale of love and loss, passion and pain, of heroism and heartbreak that begins as all the best stories do, with Once Upon a Time._

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is an idea that's been in my head for a while. So here it is, and I'm sorry, but I can't write fight scenes. I hope you enjoyed my fairy tale tarot gay superhero thing. For anyone wondering what deck the Godmother was using, I pictured it as the Delos Tarot. You can buy it on etsy.
> 
> And here's a plug for my tumblr: http://twistedwonderlandbrokenoz.tumblr.com/
> 
> Until next time :)


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